


and the story's all over

by jadeddiva



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, season four speculation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-02-11 06:53:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2058141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadeddiva/pseuds/jadeddiva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a series of drabbles, based on Tumblr prompts, that are helping me deal with 3x22 and 4x1</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. bury my heart (bury it deep)

**bury my heart**

She leaves without a second glance at any of the happy couples – happy families – tucked into the corners of the diner, sharing smiles and touches and affectionate glances.

Regina’s fingers grip the door handle, flinging it open before escaping into the cold night air. Her ragged breaths escape her lips and forms puffy white clouds in front of her. She cannot control herself, cannot control the way that she’s trembling, heart beating a fierce tattoo (she balls her fists to keep the magic inside).

(It works, for the time being, but she cannot keep her hands clenched forever.)

Her feet take her down the street and towards the woods, and her body follows, but her mind is still in Granny’s diner, still focusing on the reunion of Robin with his family.

Her heart is another matter entirely

Nothing in Regina’s life has ever been simple or easy, but this decision is: she will bury her heart in the woods where it belongs, like she should have back in the Enchanted Forest the first time.

It is obvious, by the way that Emma phrased her request, that Regina did some harm to the woman – clearly Robin’s previously-deceased wife– and Regina cannot for the life of her remember what it was, cannot recall anything familiar about the woman’s features or her voice. It occurs to her that she’s killed so many people that they all blur together into a sea of faces and bodies, and her step falters, her breath catches.

_Did she kill Robin’s wife?_

Regina is angry at herself, and at Emma, and at Snow and even Snow’s mother for never teaching any of them to look before they leap, to consider the consequences, but her sanctimonious remarks in the diner earlier leave a bitter taste on her mouth as she remembers Tinkerbelle’s words all those years ago, about ruining Robin’s life by not entering the tavern (she should have summoned up every ounce of courage and found him, her mystery man, and so much of this could have been avoided).

But she didn’t, and it wasn’t, and now she has to deal with the repercussions of her actions.

She feels sick.

She reaches the part where the road curves and the well-worn gravel path into the woods appears, and she follows it. The soft _crunch_ of her footsteps is a welcome change from the beating of her heart and the sound of Robin calling his wife’s name, _Marian,_ which echoes in her mind.

She has lost a sister and a lover today, and she is not sure she can stand to lose more. What else would the universe see fit to take from her to punish her for her past crimes? (Henry, she thinks, and she shudders, trying to forget that she ever thought of him, hoping that she hasn’t cursed her son.)

She takes a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves, but the scent of evergreens and earth and burnt wood overwhelms her because it reminds her of _him_. Regina stops, presses hand to her mouth, and muffles a sob.

_What has she done?_

Not even an hour ago, it had felt like - for the first time in forever - things were going well. She had someone who loved her and she loved in return, she had her son back, she had magic that was no longer tainted with darkness, and there was peace in Storybrooke. Now, she has nothing.

All because, years ago, she hated a young girl so deeply that she destroyed her kingdom for the sake of vengeance.

She wants to rage against Emma and her streak of selflessness, but she finds the thoughts hollow, her anger vanishing. If she did kill Robin’s Marian, and if Emma did save her, then she is guilty of robbing Robin of his wife and Roland of his mother, and perhaps this is a fitting punishment – to be alone once again, as penance for her crimes.

Regina steps off the path, wanders into the dark woods. The trees loom overhead but she is by far the most threatening creature in the forest, and the wildlife must know that. She locates a spot by a tree and drops to her knees.

Her fingers dig deep into the soil, starting to freeze in this winter chill, and she thinks about earlier, her fingers splayed across Robin’s chest, the way that he looked at her with reverence, not fear (she never did get used to how he was never afraid of her, and now she never will).   She remembers the feel of his body pressed against her own, the taste of wine on his lips and the way that he said her name like a prayer, over and over, and she bites her trembling lip, tries to focus on the task at hand.

She knows that this is just not the solution it seems to be – Snow was right, and she’ll always feel everything with her heart and her soul. Tearing out her heart will do little to stop the ache she feels in her soul, but it will be a start.

And so she buries it deep, and her hope for a future with it.

She casts a protective spell, because she doesn’t want to die if some random animal decides to sniff around.   There is dirt beneath her fingernails and emptiness in her chest that spreads through her limbs, weighing her down as she returns home.

 


	2. what might have been lost

**what might have been lost**

The first morning after Henry’s memories return and he comes back home, sleeping in his own bed for the first time in what feels like forever, Regina walks him to school.

She used to do it on occasion – they’d get breakfast together at Granny’s, and then she’d walk with him (she remembers his skinny little arms swinging hers on the way to his first day of kindergarten, the way he tensed up the closer they got to school, the way she kissed his brow and told him that everything would be okay and how he ran to her afterwards, wrapping his arms around her waist and telling her that everything was, in fact, wonderful). It’s his suggestion, an olive branch to try to get things back to normal, a reminder that there were once good times, before he started to question everything and before she made a whole string of foolish, damning decisions.

They get to the edge of the block and then she sees them, the entire family, walking towards the pre-school classroom (Roland is the right age, Regina thinks, and playing with other kids would make him so happy - ). They look up right as she slows down, Marian’s eyes finding hers immediately and she hears the other woman’s shouts ( _Monster monster MONSTER_ ) in her head.

“I’ll see you later,” she tells Henry, who just hugs her as if he knows her pain better than she does (he’s always been so astute, this young man of hers).

She doesn’t walk him to school again.

Instead, she hunkers down in her office, the walls of town hall her fortress. She doesn’t get lunch at Granny’s, chooses to work right through it or bring something from home which she doesn’t even eat because she’s not hungry, not anyway. The work is mindless but she finds comfort in the distraction of Zelena’s aftermath.

She ignores the buzzing of her phone in her purse, hidden in her desk drawer (if the Charmings want her, they’ll just storm in here like they always do).

Henry splits his time between her house and Emma’s new apartment, and Regina tries not to be greedy as she watches him run down the path to Emma’s car, her pirate always in the passenger seat these days.   She and Emma may have reached a détente, but the loss of Henry, even for a night, stirs up all the ghosts that linger in the corners of her house. They haunt her, tease her, drive her to the liquor cabinet, each slow sip of whiskey burning them away.

She cannot change the past, and even if Emma can bring back the dead, there’s still no magic in the world that can makes someone love her (again). She should have known better than to assume that she had been forgiven; someone as evil as her never would get such a temporary reprieve.

Regina is in the kitchen, studying the tumbler of amber liquid (the glass half-full is still a glass half-empty when you drink alone) when the doorbell rings. She stands, rolling her eyes, a few harsh words for the Charmings already on her tongue when she opens the door.

She does not expect to find him standing there.

He stares at her like she is an oasis, and he is a parched and thirsty soul (doesn’t he know that she’s just a mirage, something that doesn’t really exist?). His mouth opens and closes, and she grips the door handle.

“Can I help you?” she asks, as politely (and curtly) as possible.  

“You don’t answer my calls,” he responds, sounding just a bit desperate, and there was a time when she would have wanted this sort of behavior from a man. She still wants it from him, but the desperation is tainted by the knowledge that she has made him into this in the first place by her own horrible past.

She purses her lips. “There’s nothing to talk about,” she tells him. “Your family is reunited. I hope you sent a ‘thank you’ card to Miss Swan for her part in the matter.”

“Regina.” The way he speaks her name makes her shiver, and she realizes that she’s been a fucking fool. By keeping herself away from him, it’s only made the need for him stronger. Robin looks broken and lost, and she never wanted this for him, to be so ruined (she destroys everything she touches). “Are you going to deny everything we had?”

“What we had was stolen,” Regina reminds him.   He shakes his head.

“It was real,” he tries to tell her, but she starts to close the door, puts distance between them.

“Go home to your family,” she says, the words cold and hard on her tongue. She closes the door.

She does not cry.

Monsters don’t cry.


	3. wait 'til morning gives

**wait 'til morning gives**

Regina wants nothing more than to be in her warm bed right now, not traipsing through a freaking forest looking for some Disney princess (the irony is not lost on her) but the odds are never in her favor and so she wraps her arms tighter around herself, stomps her feet.

It doesn’t help that _he_ lingers to her left, drafted by Emma because he’s eager to help. He keeps shooting glances her way and the ache in her chest grows every time she catches him looking (she always looks away, lip trembling, fingers clenching at her sides). He looks as miserable as she feels, but he also looks like he can’t get enough of her and there has never been anyone in all of her life that has wanted more of her than what was given and she, she has never deserved more from them than what scraps that she pulled from their cold dead hands.

Regina is used to hoisting herself up onto the pedestal; she’s not sure what to do when someone places her there involuntarily.

It’s growing dark, so the flashlights start to go on as Emma gives instructions. They’ll split up: Emma will go off with her pirate and the dwarves, and she is left with Robin and Charming and his Merry Men. It makes sense – they’re the only two in each group that can wield magic, but Regina wonders if this is some vain attempt for Emma to make up for what she’s done by bringing Robin’s wife back accidentally. This is exactly the nonsense that Snow would do – lock Regina in a room with Robin, have their car break down on the side of the road, have them share a bed, each and every trope more irritating than the last, and it makes complete sense that her daughter would attempt reconciliation through forced companionship.

The sentiment is not lost on Regina, and she feels bad for harsh words to Emma, because the only person she has to blame is herself. She’s the one that didn’t enter the tavern in the first place.

Regina ignores his presence, choosing to talk to no one, to focus her sense on the forest itself. The places hums with magic, the presence of the well in the center throbbing with magic like a beating heart, and she can feel traces of Emma, of Gold, and even of Zelena (the space where her own heart should be throbs thinking of her sister’s suicide). But, nothing of the elusive snow queen, whose magic froze half the town just a few hours ago.

She sighs, and that’s when it happens.

She trips over the tree branch, falls forward, and he is there to catch her.

“Regina,” he says, and she stumbles, grasping at his jacket (his face is so close to his that she shudders, tries not to raise her lips, the memory of their last kiss like a blow to her gut). She rights herself and then pulls back hand back as if burned.

“I’m fine,” she tells him, brushing her hand on her pants (she didn’t fall that far, she is completely fine) but Robin doesn’t leave her space. Instead, he crowds her, his voice tight and desperate.

“I want to talk.” Regina flicks the flashlight up just slightly, catches the pleading look on his face, and she shakes her head.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” she says, but even as she speaks the words, she can feel her entire body rebel against them. Emotion rises in her chest and she pushes it back down, hands trembling with the need to keep everything in as her treasonous soul swells inside her and threatens to destroy her. With some effort, she schools her features, smiles. “We’ve already spoken.”

She notices that all the others have drifted away from them, giving them privacy that she doesn’t want.

“No, we haven’t,” Robin tells her. “Marian hurled insults at you as you walked away. And before that, you walked out of the diner without a second word. I hardly consider that speaking.”

“I’ve already told you, there’s nothing to be said,” Regina repeats, and he shakes his head, the stubborn fool.

“I can’t believe that – not after what we shared.” He is insistent, and Regina sighs.  

In any other circumstance, she would leap on the shared memory of their happiness, but if loving Henry has taught her anything, then it’s the fact that she’s a changed woman. Regina of the past wouldn’t hesitate to break up a family to get what she wanted but this Regina won’t. She will bow out, heartless and alone, and let Robin have the future that she stole from him in the first place.

“I –“ Regina starts, looks down at the flashlight in her hand, “I killed your wife. I am responsible for your sorrow.”

“But you’re also responsible for my joy,” Robin insists, grabbing her hand and placing it on his chest. “Regina, there has to be a way – “

She lets her hand linger, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her palm, through her glove and through his coat. She remembers the feel of it, bare skin against bare skin, and she pulls away with a sharp cry.

“I can’t. We can’t.” She turns away, feeling the sorrow that has been her constant companion wrap itself around her shoulder just a bit tighter, the cold making her breath catch (that is it, she can’t be sobbing). “I can’t.”

There are flashlights, and Regina squints, the beam of the light catching her in the face (she turns away, brings her hand up to cover her face). “Sorry!” Emma calls. “Did you find her?”

“No,” Charming admits, and Regina shakes her head.

“She’s not here,” she tells Emma (behind her, Robin lingers, as if his presence will break her resolve, as if he doesn’t know how hard she can be without her heart). “No one’s here but us.” Regina studies Emma carefully, notices the way that her eyes are wide and she’s smiling, happy. “You felt the magic in the woods, didn’t you?”

The way that Emma beams makes Regina feel like a proud teacher, and she is grateful for the respite from having to deal with Robin, for Emma wants to talk to her the entire way back to town, asking her questions, listening carefully as Regina responds with advice. Soon Robin drifts away entirely, and Regina can feel his absence acutely, even if she doesn’t want to, even if she wants to believe she can’t (she has no claim on him, after all, not after what she’s done


End file.
